


lovefool

by daenw (freckledfoxes)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Dean Winchester, Coda, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode Tag, Episode: s11e18 Hell's Angel, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledfoxes/pseuds/daenw
Summary: Dean stands over Cas, who’s conked out on the couch. There's a blanket draped around his shoulders while the TV flickers in and out of an old M.A.S.H. rerun. Dean does this sometimes now, since Lucifer and Amara and freakin’ God. Since everything settled down and went quiet. No curses to break, no angels or demons to outrun, no apocalypse looming over their heads. They have a lot of time now. Dean takes seconds, minutes even, just to stop and look at his best friend because how in the hell did they manage to get him out? How did they manage to all end up just fine?Dean watches Cas’ eyes flicker open, blinking against the blue-cast of the television. He looks up blearily and takes a deep breath, startled into wakefulness.“You’re right. That is unsettling,” Cas grouses, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes.





	lovefool

Dean stands over Cas, who’s conked out on the couch. There's a blanket draped around his shoulders while the TV flickers in and out of an old _M.A.S.H._ rerun. Dean does this sometimes now, since Lucifer and Amara and freakin’ God. Since everything settled down and went quiet. No curses to break, no angels or demons to outrun, no apocalypse looming over their heads. They have a lot of time now. Dean takes seconds, minutes even, just to stop and look at his best friend because how in the _hell_ did they manage to get him out? How did they manage to all end up just fine?

Dean watches Cas’ eyes flicker open, blinking against the blue-cast of the television. He looks up blearily and takes a deep breath, startled into wakefulness.

“You’re right. That is unsettling,” Cas grouses, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles, though he’s not.

There’s another moment of them just looking at each other. Dean breaks the silence. He clears his throat and holds out the mug of hot chocolate that’s steaming in his hands.

“Thought you might like some. You ever tried it before?”

Cas holds the cocoa up to his nose and inhales, closing his eyes with a hum of appreciation. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. It smells wonderful. The hot chocolate at the Gas-n-Sip smelled like cardboad.”

Dean makes a noise that’s more out of guilt than amusement. He sits beside his friend, keeping a respectable few inches between them. Cas takes a sip, slow and thoughtful, and Dean just watches, something twisting his gut and pinching heart.

“What time is it?” Cas asks, because that’s not a thing he can just sense anymore.

“Ten thirty,” Dean replies. “Falling asleep on the couch is nice and all but your neck’s not gonna thank you for it. Thought I’d save you some pain in the morning.”

A tiny smile plays at Cas’ lips. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Human bodies… They’re hard to maintain. I forget all the rules.”

“S’your body now, Cas, and you gotta take care of it. I’ll help you.”

Cas gives him a look and Dean feels a flush creep into his cheeks.

“I-I mean--” Dean sputters, backpedalling.

“Dean.”

Dean takes a deep breath and finally, _finally_ , looks away. He runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh that rattles in his chest. There’s a twinge in his eyes and he curses himself for it.

A firm hand comes down on his shoulder, warm and gentle and Dean can only swallow around the lump in his throat. There’s so much they haven’t talked about; so many things they haven’t said to each other since they got Cas back and it’s been chipping away at Dean for weeks. Because god does he want to say some things. But the words always get caught in his throat when he looks at Cas. Sometimes Cas will give him a look and Dean thinks maybe he doesn’t have to say a damn thing. He could walk over and kiss the guy right then and nothing would feel weird about it. But he’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything, like he always does.

“Talk to me,” Cas says. It’s a command but it isn’t forceful.

“Cas--”

“Please. Dean, I enjoy every moment of our time together, but you’ve hardly said anything _meaningful_ to me in weeks. Small talk and jokes… You don’t have to tip-toe around me, Dean.”

“I don’t wanna say something I’ll regret,” Dean manages to grit out, closing his eyes.

“Like what?”

Dean frowns and shakes his head. “There’s a lot I wanna say, Cas. I can’t just--” He stops and looks over at his friend. Cas is watching him with curious eyes and Dean feels like an amoeba under a microscope.

There’s a bit of hair sticking right up just above Cas’ ear. Dean takes the distraction and reaches out, sliding his hand through Cas’ hair, smoothing it out. He doesn’t stop touching Cas, though, and Cas leans into it, closing his eyes. Dean can feel the heat in his stomach skyrocket and his heart catches in his throat.

“Please don’t ever feel like you can’t tell me how you’re feeling, Dean,” Cas says softly and Dean can feel his warm breath against his wrist. It sends goosebumps up his arm.

“First I wanna say I’m sorry,” he whispers in a moment of bravery.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeah. I do. I have a lot I need to make up for. Most of it is stuff I’ve done to you, though. I did the worst things to you. Mostly I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you. I thought… I thought words were enough but… I never showed it. Actions speak louder, or whatever.”

Cas opens his eyes and they hold each other’s gaze. “I’m a burden. That’s not your fault.”

Dean frowns. “You’re not,” he says forcefully, shaking his head. “And I did that. I made you think that. I never… I took you for granted when all I ever wanted was for you to know that I just wanted you here. But I couldn’t ever get the words out of my damn mouth unless… Unless I was desperate. Unless I thought I was gonna lose you for good. And that’s like saying ‘I love you’ in the middle of sex. It don’t count.”

Cas’ hand comes up to rest over the one Dean has carded through his hair. “Dean--”

“I just wish you could know how I felt about you without me having to say it. I’ve never said it. Not to anyone but my mom. ‘Cause I can’t… I couldn’t make it real just to lose you in the end.”

Cas’ expression falls at Dean’s confession but it doesn’t stop. Dean’s words are practically ripped from his throat.

“I can’t lose you. I couldn’t handle it. I’ve never handled losin’ you well. But I think if it happened again, I’d be done. I’d go out of my fuckin’ mind. What’s the point of anything if I lose you?”

There are visible tears in Dean’s eyes now. They’re clouding his vision and he has to turn his eyes up to the ceiling to keep them from spilling over. Cas pulls at Dean’s arm, guiding him closer until Cas has his forehead pressed to Dean’s, his warm hand wrapped around the back of Dean’s neck.

“Dean, look at me.”

He can’t. “Cas--”

“Look at me.”

God, he’s hopeless. Dean looks back into Cas’ eyes. The look on Cas’ face is so fiery and determined that Dean can feel the heat behind it.

“Of course I know that you love me, Dean. How could I not?”

Dean makes a broken sound. “Cas--”

“But it made you so angry, your love for me. I didn’t think you wanted it; wanted me. Your feelings for me were _hurting_ you. And _scaring_ you. I always felt your longing even when I was in the same room. But it was a hindrance. A burden on your shoulders. So much energy wasted on me when you could have focused it on something more important.”

Dean’s grip in Cas’ hair tightened. “You _are_ important. You are one of the most important things in my life, Cas. There is literally nothing more important in this world to me than you and Sam. _Nothing_. You got that?”

“Dean--”

“I will do whatever I have to to make you feel wanted and needed outside of being a tool. ‘Cause you’re not that. You’re not a tool. You’re a person and I want you to know that I-I--” Dean took a shaky breath. “That I love you. That I want you around for more than just what you can do or what you know. I wanna watch stupid TV shows with you. I want to go for drives in my car with you riding shotgun. I want-- I want to cook your favorite foods and ones you’ve never had before. I want you to move your shit into my room, if you want that, too.”

Cas’ eyes were wide, lips parted in silent disbelief. Dean pet his hand down the back of Cas’ head and brought it around to the side of his face. He stroked his thumb across Cas’ cheekbone. “I want things with you, Cas. Things I didn’t even know I wanted ‘til just a couple years ago. None of it has to do with hunting or apocalypses or angel mojo. I just want you.”

They’re quiet for a moment, just looking at each other Cas searching Dean’s face as if he might find something, _anything_ , to give away a lie. But there’s nothing to find.

“I’ve been such a fool, Dean,” Cas whispers.

“We both have. Couple of dumbasses, remember? I told you.”

Cas shook his head and brought his other hand up to grab the front of Dean’s shirt. “I would like to move my things into your room. And watch television with you. And go on drives with you and eat your cooking. Sam says you’re a great cook.”

Dean gathers up a bit of courage and presses forward slightly, nudging his nose to Cas’. “Mind if we start on all that tomorrow?”

Cas nods. “I would like to sleep right now.” There’s a silent _with you_ tacked on the end of that sentence and Dean can’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go sleep, Cas. My memory foam’s been dyin’ to meet you.”


End file.
